


Haikyuu Oneshots

by Simply_Toast



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:14:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29002800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simply_Toast/pseuds/Simply_Toast
Summary: Just some little Haikyuu Oneshots that I write when I feel like it. Mostly fluff, maybe angst. All depends on my mood.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 18





	1. Hanahaki (TsukiYama)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamaguchi has known Tsukishima for as long as he can remember. However, when Yamaguchi starts coughing uo blood and flowers, he is forced to seek help from his upper classmen. Will Yamaguchi find the courage to confess to his childhood friend, or will he get the surgery?  
> Flowers:  
> Red Carnation - Heartache  
> White Carnation - Innocent love  
> Willow - Sadness  
> Pink Camellia - Longing  
> Red Columbine - Anxiety  
> Begonia - Dark thoughts  
> Red Rose - I love you
> 
> Slight tw: Minor depressive thoughts, slight mention and implication of suicidal thoughts

Yamaguchi slouched over the sink, his throat searing. The mix of petals and blood had become a familiar sight for him over the past few months. The white basin below him was stained. He could see carnations, both white and red; he wasn't sure if that was the colour of the petal or the staining of his blood. Yamaguchi understood why this was happening to him. He knew it was his punishment from the world for being stupid enough to fall in love with his best friend. He cleared the petals from the basin before running the water, not wanting to get in trouble for his mess again.

Yamaguchi curled up in his bed, his throat aching. He knew it was getting worse and he had no idea what he could do about it. He didn't want to tell Tsukishima how he felt because he knew he would be rejected, but the idea of the surgery terrified him. He held in a cough, rushing for a tissue to avoid spluttering blood onto his sheets. He felt tears roll down his cheeks as he hacked into the tissue, feeling the familiar shape of a willow flower work its way up his windpipe. He spat out the flower, tossing it away alongside the blood soaked tissue. With a fresh tissue pressed against his lips, Yamaguchi fell asleep.

Like any other school morning, he woke to a knock on his bedroom door. "Tadashi, get up," the familiarly snide voice echoed from outside Yamaguchi's bedroom. He felt his throat close and he desperately spluttered as he pulled himself out of bed.  
"Sorry, Tsuki. I'll be out in a minute." Yamaguchi threw on his uniform and looked in the mirror, using a damp tissue to wipe dried blood off his chin. He tried to breathe deeply, but his lungs were crowded and he felt petals get lodged in his trachea as he exhaled. He ran his hand through his hair, already feeling exhausted.  
"Tadashi, hurry up or we'll be late." Swallowing whatever of the petals he could, Yamaguchi opened the door.

"Sorry, Tsuki," Yamaguchi smiled, closing his eyes to avoid eye contact.  
"Whatever. I keep telling you to set an alarm. If you did that we might actually get to school on time."  
"You say that as if we arrive late often." Tsukishima rolled his eyes, looking straight down the pathway and smiling slightly. Yamaguchi coughed.  
"You've been coughing a lot recently," Tsukishima said, casting his gaze to Yamaguchi out of the corner of his eye.  
"Yeah, it's just a cold, don't worry about it," Yamaguchi said, laughing nervously. Tsukishima was skeptical, but didn't question Yamaguchi further. The rest of the walk to school was silent.

Once the two had parted ways, Yamaguchi rushed to the bathroom. He hacked and spluttered against the edge of the toilet, the red pigment of blood, carnations, and columbines painting the bowl. Yamaguchi took heaving breaths, struggling to fill his lungs from a mix of panic and lack of space. He was terrified of so many things. Of what would happen if Tsukishima found out, or if he told Tsukishima, but also if he didn't tell Tsukishima. Yamaguchi's mind was racing and his breaths came out in harsh sobs, tears streaming down his face. He heard the door of the bathroom creak open and someone stepped inside. Yamaguchi tried to stifle his whimpers, but he soon began to choke. He was spluttering, heaving up the contents of his lungs and watching whole red columbines float on the sea of blood at the bottom of the toilet bowl with tears pouring from his eyes.

"Hey, that sounds pretty bad. You okay?" The voice from the outside of the bathroom stall was familiar.  
"Daichi?" Yamaguchi said weakly.  
"Wait, Yamaguchi? Are you okay? What's going on?" Daichi approached the stall. Yamaguchi tried to respond, but only ended up coughing and gasping for air. "Would you please let me in? I want to help you." Yamaguchi pulled himself off the ground and opened the stall. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror opposite and he looked as bad as he felt. His eyes were red from rubbing them and his cheeks were soaked, causing loose hairs to stick to his face. Add to that the blood smeared across his mouth and dripping down his chin. Daichi stared at Yamaguchi with wide eyes, then glanced at the toilet bowl. "Hanahaki," he murmured. Yamaguchi only nodded as a response. Daichi pulled him in and held him close, allowing the younger boy to weep against his shoulder. "Do you know who?" Daichi asked. Yamaguchi nodded once more. "Do you know what you're going to do?" He shook his head. Daichi looked at him with pity, handing the younger boy tissues to clean up his face with.

"Sorry Daichi."  
"Don't apologise, it's not as if you can control this. I'm not sure how helpful I can be, but I will try if you need me too. Sugawara will probably be able to give you some good advice too." Yamaguchi wiped his face and muttered his thanks to Daichi. They stood in silence as Daichi slowly rubbed circles onto the younger boy's back. "Do you mind if I ask who?" Yamaguchi was silent as he thought, knowing that it would be easier if he had others supporting him through this, yet doubting their ability to help him fix the problem.  
"Kei," he said quietly, the name taking his breath away in the most literal sense. His windpipe felt clogged and he coughed a flurry of white carnations and pink camellias into the sink. Daichi looked on with worry.  
"If you ever need a break from practice, just let me know," He said softly. Yamaguchi nodded, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks from the murderous pain in his chest and throat.

The rest of the day was torture. His throat felt raw and his head throbbed from dehydration. He walked into the gym late, having spent too much time coughing up red columbines at the thought of seeing Tsukishima. He forced a smile and greeted the team, avoiding eye contact with his childhood friend. Sugawara looked at him with concern, before smiling. After Yamaguchi had gotten changed and metally prepared, he was confronted by Sugawara who gave him a small smile. “Hey, can we chat?” he asked. Yamaguchi, who was finding speech difficult due to his earlier coughing fits, nodded.

The two sat outside in the spring sun on the edge of a concrete flower bed. The sight made Yamaguchi want to throw up, but Sugawara admired the plants. There were selections of tulips, carpets of moss phlox, and a large wisteria weeping in the centre of the garden bed. Sugawara looked up at Yamaguchi. “How’re you feeling?” He shrugged. Sugawara observed him carefully, as if searching his face for how he really felt. “Yamaguchi, could I tell you a story?” The younger boy looked at the third year, expecting him to speak, but Sugawara waited until Yamaguchi responded.  
“Sure,” he stuttered out weakly.

“When I first met Daichi, I thought he was such a tight-ass. He was a stickler for the rules and never went against anything others told him. I suppose he’s still that way, but I view him differently now. Early into our second year, I began to admire him. I was inspired by his drive and he always knew what to say to get everyone fired up. Around that time, I started coughing. I didn't think twice about it, just thought it was a cold. I suppose you would have, too. But it kept getting worse and about a week into it, there was blood. And then single petals. Then a whole flower. For about a month and a half, I had no idea who was causing it, but I despised them. I had decided to get the surgery because I was sick of the pain, yet something didn’t sit right. I was unsure if I wanted to lose all feelings for this person if I didn’t know who they were. I had a month till the surgery and I was on some kind of wild goose chase, all while struggling to breathe. Eventually, Daichi found out what was happening. He insisted that I miss practice and stay home. He’d come over to my house with a thermos of honey lemon tea, he’d replace the rags I'd wipe my mouth with and empty the bowl I'd cough into. He was seriously acting like a mother and I loved it, yet I was feeling even worse than ever. There were times when I couldn’t breathe at all, when I couldn’t cough even if I wanted to. He thought that being there was helping me.

“Only two months into the disease and I had to be rushed to hospital. I was given ventolin in an effort to keep my lungs working, and he didn’t leave my side. The only thing I really remember from the hospital was waking up with him holding my hand and crying, telling me to live. I remember how weak my voice was when I told him I loved him, and I remember how happy he looked when he said he loved me. It was so sudden, but I felt instant relief. My chest swelled with air. I coughed, ripping off the ventolin mask and spitting wilted petals and blood onto the hospital sheets. Daichi panicked, calling the nurses and asking if I was okay, and I told him that I felt better than ever. The feeling of getting to breathe normally again is incredible and I want you to know that you will get there.” Sugawara looked at Yamaguchi. “But not if you don’t do something about this. You love him, don’t you?” Yamaguchi suppressed a cough. “If you love him, tell him. Please, I don’t want you to end up in the hospital like I did, I have never felt worse than I did in that moment,” Sugawara pleaded, looking at Yamaguchi with worried eyes.

“What if he hates me for it?” Yamaguchi croaked.  
“At very worst he rejects you, but then you can get the surgery and move on!”  
“I’d rather die,” he mutters quietly. Sugawara looked scared and he began to shake as he wrapped his arms around the younger boy.  
“Please don’t say that, Tadashi.” Sugawara was crying, but Yamaguchi didn’t have the energy. His breathing was shallow and his head was screaming in pain. He felt pathetic. Sugawara pulled back from the hug, wiping tears from his eyes. “Have you eaten? Eating is really helpful and can help push the petals down your esophagus. Water is also very important, please make sure you’re drinking enough. The amount of blood you’re coughing up will make you anemic, as well as dehydrated. Honey is the best thing for stopping the sore throat so I recommend honey and butter on plain bread as often as you can,” Sugawara rambled on about the things which Yamaguchi should and shouldn’t eat, as well as lecturing him when he said that he hadn’t brought his water bottle to school. “Don’t do that, you should always have water with you. When we get back to the gym you can use my bottle, I can handle drinking from the fountain.” Yamaguchi weakly chuckled at Sugawara’s overprotective state. “Hey! This isn’t a joke you know!”  
“I’m sorry, seriously. Thank you, Sugawara,” Yamaguchi struggled out between chuckles and weak coughs.  
“Of course. If you ever need anything, I am always here to help you, Yamaguchi. Even if you just want someone to listen to what you have to say.” The two smiled at each other. “You okay to go back to practice?”  
“Yeah, I think so.”

The rest of practice went smoothly. Yamaguchi avoided Tsukishima, switching between resting on the sidelines and offering advice, to practicing his jump float serves. Anytime he felt the need to cough, he gulped down a mouthful of water, and for the most part, he was fine. That is, until Tsukishima sat down beside him on the bench. He saw Daichi and Sugawara shoot him worried glances. “You sure it’s just a cold?” Tsukishima asked coldly. Yamaguchi’s throat burned and he chugged half of the water bottle in his hand.  
“Yeah. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.” Yamaguchi knew that Tsukihsima wouldn’t be convinced, especially when his voice sounded as raspy as it did.  
“Tadashi. I don’t like liars.” Yamaguchi’s grip on the water bottle tightened and his teeth clenched. His breathing stopped and he gasped for air. He coughed and spluttered, catching the petals in his hand but feeling the blood drip between his fingers. In seconds, Sugawara was at his side, helping him to his feet and taking him to the bathroom.

Tsukishima looked panicked. It was an expression that nobody in the team had seen before. He stared at the drops of blood left on the floor with complex thoughts. He was confused as to what was happening, yet for some reason he felt guilty. “ _Why didn’t he tell me something was wrong?_ ” he thought. “ _Why did he tell Sugawara instead?_ ” Hinata approached Tsukishima and asked what was wrong with Yamaguchi, but Tsukishima just scowled in response, storming to the bathroom and pacing in front of the door, staring at the blood droplets along the floor. He noticed one patch of blood which looked strange, so he bent down to inspect it. Sitting in a shallow pool of blood was the petal of a begonia. He held the petal between his fingers and stood up. His face blanched and his eyes were wide.

Yamaguchi left the bathroom with Sugawara only to confront a wide-eyed Tsukishima holding a blood stained flower petal. Sugawara looked between the two of them, tapped Yamaguchi’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring look before returning to the gym. Yamaguchi looked up at Tsukishima and felt tears burn his eyes. He was too dehydrated to cry. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Yamaguchi stared at the ground.  
“I’m not sure what you mean-”  
“Don’t play dumb! You have hanahaki, don’t you?” Yamaguchi flinched as Tsukishima raised his voice.  
“I was in the garden, it could have been from then.”  
“Do you take me for a fool? Begonia’s don’t grow in this environment. Do you know the language behind them? Do you know what it means when you’re coughing up begonias?” Tsukishima held Yamaguchi’s collar and shouted in his face, but Yamaguchi avoided eye contact and focused on keeping down the flowers. “It means ‘dark thoughts’. It means that you’re thinking of doing things you shouldn’t.”

Tsukishima relaxes, letting go of Yamaguchi’s collar and looking at him with unease. “Please, Tadashi. Please tell me what’s going on.” Yamaguchi slipped up and made eye contact with Tsukishima. Instantly, his chest hurt. The expression on Tsukishima’s face was entirely new to him, and it caused his knees to give way as he coughed and spluttered, spitting up blood and whole flowers. It was the worst fit he’d ever had. Begonias and willow, red carnations and columbines, and the occasional pink camellia. He couldn’t breathe, the only thing he could feel was the writhing pain as the flowers ripped at his throat. He gasped and coughed in turns, clutching his chest and letting the tears flow from his eyes, mixing with the blood on the floor. Tsukishima squatted beside Yamaguchi, pulling his hair away from his face and tracing circles on his temples. "What do you need from me, Tadashi?" Tsukishima spoke softly. Between the coughs and splutters, Yamaguchi replied.  
"Kei-" he said weakly, being interrupted by a white carnation stained with blood being ripped from his throat. He reached forward, clutching onto Tsukishima’s uniform, letting blood drip from his mouth as he felt his throat close up. He sat silently, tears slowly falling down his cheeks.

“Tadashi?” Tsukishima put his hand softly on the back of Yamaguchi’s neck. He couldn’t hear him breathing. “Tadashi! Breathe, idiot! Please, don’t you dare give up.” Tsukishima pulled Yamaguchi close, feeling the blood and tears soak into his shirt. He still didn’t breathe. Tsukishima panicked, holding Yamaguchi as close to his chest as he could. “Please don’t leave me, Tadashi. You’re all I have,” he whispers into Yamaguchi’s neck, his breathing quickening. His mind was racing, telling him that anything was worth a shot, that he didn’t have time to doubt himself. “Tadashi, I…” Tsukishima whispered.

“...I love you.”

Yamaguchi splutters, coughing blood and the petals of red roses down the back of Tsukishima’s shirt, swiftly pulling away and hunching completely over, his forehead resting on the floor. He spluttered and gasped, exhaustion rippling through his body as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Tsukishima panicked, pressing his hand onto his back and shouting his name repeatedly. Sugawara rushed in after hearing Tsukishima’s shouts. He dropped to Yamaguchi’s side, the rest of the team standing shocked in the gym doorway. Yamaguchi coughed weakly with what little energy he had left, forcing wilted flowers out of his windpipe and onto the floor. Sugawara smiles lightly, patting Yamaguchi’s hair softly before turning to Tsukishima. “He’ll be okay, just be sure to look after him,” he said, before walking to the gym door and ushering the rest of the team back into the gym to give the two boys space.

Tsukishima looked at Yamaguchi slumped on the floor in front of him. “How do you feel?”  
“Exhausted. Disgusting. Pained,” Yamaguchi said, his voice raspy from coughing and gasping.  
“Sit tight.” Tsukishima rushed into the bathroom and returned with tissue. He sat Yamaguchi against the wall, pressing the tissue into his hand and allowing him to wipe the tears and blood from his face. Yamaguchi’s breathing was rapid, desperately inhaling as much as he could, fearing that his ability to breathe could disappear at any moment. Tsukishima shuffled closer to Yamaguchi, looking into his tired eyes. Yamaguchi’s face flushed and he dodged Tsukishia’s gaze. He could feel a cold sweat covering his body and the metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth. His clothing clung to his skin and he was suddenly aware of his shaking body.

“What does this mean?” Tsukishima asked, his voice quivering with faux tranquillity. Yamaguchi stared at the ground.  
“Kei, I’m really glad you’re in my life,” Yamaguchi muttered.  
“I asked what this means; answer my question.” Yamaguchi’s breathing was still ragged and uneven, but he was breathing. The silence lingered between the two and Tsukishima settled beside Yamaguchi with a sigh.  
“I love you, Kei.” Tsukishima’s eyes went wide and he could feel his heart thumping in his chest. He turned towards Yamaguchi who was still avoiding eye contact, then closed his eyes and smiled. He pushed hand under his glasses, pressing down on his eyelids to hold back tears. “Sorry,” Yamaguchi murmured, his voice catching in his throat.  
“Idiot. You don’t have to apologise.” Tsukishima reached his hand down and gently intertwined his fingers with Yamaguchi’s. The two sat in comfortable silence. Their hands acted as a lifeline for the two; a subtle and gentle reminder that they were there, and they weren’t leaving. Eventually, Yamaguchi leant over and fell asleep on Tsukishima’s shoulder.

Two hours passed as Tsukishima relished the feeling of Yamaguchi’s hand in his. Practice had ended, but no one in the team had the heart to wake Yamaguchi up. Daichi had left Tsukishima with the key, trusting him to lock up once Yamaguchi awoke. “Kei?” Yamaguchi slurred, his voice groggy and croaky.  
“Finally. I was beginning to think that I would have to sleep here too,” Tsukishima teased. Yamaguchi smiled softly, before chuckling gingerly.  
“Sorry, Kei.”  
“Don’t apologise, you needed the sleep.” Tsukishima threaded his fingers into Yamaguchi’s hair, the soft strands slipping between his digits. Yamaguchi’s face flushed and he laughed nervously, fiddling with the hem of his sports shirt. Tsukishima cleared his throat and retreated his hand from Yamaguchi’s hair. “We should go before the sun sets,” he stuttered.

The two of them changed out of their blood-soaked clothing and walked beside each other, slightly closer than they used to. When they reached Yamaguchi’s house, they turned to one another. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”  
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll, uh…” Yamaguchi trailed off, not finishing his sentence and staring at the pavement. Tsukishima lent down slightly to try and meet Yamaguchi’s gazei.  
“Tadashi?” Yamaguchi stretched up and gently pressed his lips against Tsukishima’s. The kiss was soft and fleeting, yet it left both boys feeling like a flustered, fumbling mess.  
“I-I’ll see you tomorrow!” Yamaguchi blurted out before swiftly retreating into his home. He pressed his back against the door, his breathing heavy and his face burning. His knees gave way and he collapsed onto the floor with a sigh. Yamaguchi breathed deeply and realised that the air had never tasted so sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (/w\\) don't talk to me (//o//w//o//)  
> I know its not great but TsukiYama is gonna be the death of me. I was gonna have a soft BokuAka Coffee Shop AU for the next one but that's... yeah its gotten a little out of hand and it's probably gonna end up it's own fic, whoops. I'm definitely gonna have an OiSuga oneshot ready soon though... if I keep my word.  
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed (^ovo^)


	2. Winter Sunset (OiSuga)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glowing sunset, as well as hot chocolate and cuddle's by the fire. A peaceful evening filled with love. 
> 
> Literally the fluffiest thing I've ever written, so much softness.
> 
> Also idk if mentions of 'Killing Me Softly' counts as a trigger warning cause it certainly triggers me but just... be warned... don't break your ankles

Oikawa knocked on the door, pulling his jacket closer around his shoulders to protect himself from the snowy weather. The wind whipped around his ears as he heard movement behind the door. Seconds later, Sugawara appears wearing his own puffy coat, along with a burgundy scarf and matching beanie. Oikawa’s face flushed, the blush hidden beneath his wind-burnt face.  
“Hi, sorry I took so long. I’m ready now!” Suga smiled, pulling the door closed behind him.  
“Not a problem, I’ve got all the time in the world for you.” The two walked beside one another through the snow, Suga rubbing his hands together and blowing onto them to warm them up. Oikawa reached over and clasped Sugawara’s hand in his own, pulling both of their hands into his pocket. Sugawara smiled and moved closer to Oikawa, resting his head against Oikawa’s shoulder.

“So where are we headed?” Suga asked.  
“You’ll see,” Oikawa responded, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of Sugawara’s hand. The two walked in silence, enjoying looking at the pure white landscape in each other's company. Sugawara pulled his hand out of Oikawa’s pocket, leaning down to pack a snowball into his hand. As Oikawa turned to question what he was doing, Sugawara threw the ball towards his partner, the snow exploding as it hit his face. “Oh? So that’s what we’re doing…” Oikawa followed suit, smirking as he packed together a larger ball. Suga watched him, giggling quietly as he prepared to brace against his boyfriend’s attack. Oikawa hurtled the snowball at Sugawara, only for Sugawara to dodge.  
“I was a master of dodgeball in school, I’ll have you know!” Sugawara taunted, tossing a barrage of small snowballs at Oikawa, hitting him with almost every single one.  
“So you went from dodging ball’s to setting them? What a transition!” Oikawa teased before getting hit with a particularly tightly packed snowball. “Ow! Okay, okay, I forfeit! You win! You always win,” Oikawa said, chuckling.  
“Damn right I always win.” Sugawara stepped towards Oikawa and grabbed the front of his scarf, pulling it down to gently press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

Oikawa clutched onto Suga’s hand again, dragging him towards their destination.  
“You’ve wasted our time, we have to get there before sun down,” Oikawa said, glancing towards where the sun was inching towards the horizon. Sugawara hurried to keep up with his boyfriend, lightly jogging to stand at his side again.  
“I highly doubt you consider that a waste of time,” Sugawara smirked, hooking his arm around Oikawa’s. The taller boy avoided eye contact, the red from his ears and nose spreading across his cheeks as he tried and failed to keep a straight face.  
“Okay, okay. You have to close your eyes,” Oikawa said, stopping suddenly in front of Sugawara.  
“Close my eyes?”  
“Yes! You trust me, right? I’ll guide you.” Oikawa’s eye’s glittered as he looked down at his boyfriend who reached out to clutch his hand before slowly closing his eyes. Oikawa took a moment to stare at Sugawara, noticing the specks of snow which had stuck to his eyelashes, making them sparkle slightly in the evening sun. His nose was red from the cold, and his lips slightly chapped from the cold wind. He turned and pulled his boyfriend along behind him, guiding him up the hill to the base of a lone tree looking out over snow covered fields and trees. “You can look now.”

Sugawara opened his eyes to the beautiful sight of the sun lightly touching the snow covered trees on the horizon, allowing the light to bounce back. The effect made the snow glow a golden colour, contrasting against the dark treetops and empty fields beneath the snow. The sight was stunning to Sugawara who turned towards his boyfriend with a look of wonder on his face. Oikawa was leant against the tree, staring at Suga with complete adoration. Sugawara smiled and stepped towards his partner, reaching his arms around the back of his head and pulling him down into a gentle kiss. Oikawa’s hands came to rest on Sugawara’s waist holding the smaller man in place as they softly kissed. It was as if the world had slowed down around them, and the cold winter air was completely warded off by the warmth of each other's lips. “This is absolutely incredible. Thank you for showing me this,” Suga whispered as the two men leant their foreheads against one another.  
“Of course, beautiful,” Oikawa mumbled. Sugawara chuckled at the nickname, holding Oikawa even closer.  
“I love you so much,” he said softly.  
“I love you too.” The two of them turned around to face the sunset, continuing to hold each other close.

As the sun went down, the temperature began to drop even lower. Sugawara shivered against Oikawa’s side, leaning in closer. “We should head back,” Oikawa said, pushing off from the tree.  
“No! I wanna stay until the sun is fully gone!” Sugawara argued.  
“But you’re shivering.”  
“I’ll be fine.”  
“I disagree. What if we go to my house, snuggle up by the fire, have some hot chocolate...” Oikawa said, pulling his partner close and nestling his face into his scarf. Sugawara scrunched up his face, not wanting to leave the beautiful view. However, he did have to admit that it was getting increasingly cold and cuddling by the fire with Oikawa sounded more than exceptionally appealing. Sugawara hesitantly agreed to head back to Oikawa’s house, staring at the glistening view for as long as his partner allowed him. A second shiver from Suga was enough to get Oikawa to drag him down from the hill’s peak. Suga stumbled beside Oikawa, the cold making his joints stiff and slow. Oikawa was the opposite; fueled by the promise of warmth and cuddles. Sugawara dawdled behind him, clutching the hand which was firmly tucked into Oikawa's pocket, drawing warmth from it. The trip back was much shorter, not only because Oikawa's house was closer, but because they didn't stop to play in the snow again.

Oikawa's house was comparatively warm by the time they arrived. As they removed their ample coats and scarves, they were left with only their shirts and jumpers to keep them warm. Oikawa lit the fire, the flame starting small and flickering in the kindling. As he watched the smaller flames catch onto the larger logs in the fireplace, Sugawara crouched behind him, looping his hand around his waist and resting his head against Oikawa's back. "We can skip straight to cuddling if you like? But that would mean no hot chocolate, you know." Sugawara groaned, pushing off of Oikawa's and sleepily pottered into the kitchen. "Kou, baby, if you're so tired I can do it," Oikawa offered.  
"No! We will both do it and it will be fun because if I get all mopey and tired then I'll bring the mood down!" Suga responded, shaking himself awake.  
"Oh, really?" Oikawa chuckled, stepping forward and placing his hands on Sugawara's cheeks, squishing slightly. "Then I'll just have to make sure you stay smiling." Suga grinned beneath his squished cheeks, making Oikawa laugh again. 

The two got to work collecting the few ingredients they needed; the chocolate from the top cupboard that could only be reached by Suga on Oikawa’s shoulders, and the milk. They put on music as the chocolate melted, jamming to ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go’ and ‘The Safety Dance’ holding each other close and laughing at every ridiculous move the other made. Eventually, they added the milk, leaving Oikawa to slowly stir the ingredients together as Suga swayed behind him, subtly dancing to ‘Ticket to Ride’ as he latched onto his boyfriend’s waist. The warm drink was carefully poured into two large mugs and topped with marshmallows; four in Oikawa’s, and six in Suga’s. 

Sugawara sat on the floor by the fire, gently blowing on his hot chocolate to cool it down, while Oikawa searched for a blanket large enough to share. He returned moments later, sitting by Sugawara and leaning against the couch. He placed his mug on a nearby coffee table and took Suga’s mug as well to do the same. Oikawa then grasped Sugawara’s hips and dragged him towards him and slid his hands onto his waist, gently kissing at the nape of his neck and letting the soft hair on Sugawara’s neck tickle his nose. Suga leant his head back, leaning onto Oikawa’s chest and letting the taller man pull the blanket around the two of them. Oikawa handed Suga his drink and the two of them sat listening to the slow romantic music they had switched their playlist to. The fire flickered across Sugawara’s face, making his eyes shine and his skin glow slightly orange. Oikawa pressed a kiss to Suga’s cheek, making Suga smile. “You look gorgeous, Kou,” Oikawa said. Suga took a large swig of his hot chocolate before placing it on the coffee table and turning to face Oikawa. He looped his arms around to the back of Oikawa’s head and touched their noses together. The gentle rhythm of ‘Killing Me Softly With His Song’ played as Oikawa connected their lips, tenderly holding the side of Sugawara’s face, pulling him closer.  
“Tooru,” Suga mumbled. “Tooru, Tooru, Tooru~” he continued, muttering Oikawa’s name with every breath.  
“What is it, baby?”  
“Nothing, I just like saying your name,” Sugawara hums, making Oikawa sigh with adoration.

“I love you so much, Kou.”  
“I love you too, Tooru.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm a massive multishipper cause I've always shipped IwaOi and DaiSuga more than OiSuga, but I feel like OiSuga has such perfect winter vibes and I was inspired so I wrote it... and now I'm obsessed. They're so cute, I didn't even know I was capable of thinking of something so pure and wholesome wtf.  
> It's probably not the best because reading my own work and editing it makes me want to throw up. I also started writing this at like, midnight and then finished almost 12hrs later sooooo... 3 am sleepless rambles yayyy  
> Also including Killing Me Softly in this made me die because I had so many Killing Stalking flashbacks and I never want to think about that comic again yet here I am thinking about it and wanting to burn on a stake for it  
> Anyway thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed (^ovo^)


	3. Graduation (BokuAka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto graduates and Akaashi is left as captain of the Fukurodani team, however he begins to find leading a team a little harder than anticipated. The stress builds up and Akaashi loses his love of volleyball. Luckily, Bokuto is there to make him fall in love all over again.
> 
> idk about you but I reckon I should add a trigger warning for Akaashi crying cause that's practically against the law.

Late practice had become a habit for Akaashi, even after Bokuto had graduated. His underclassmen pitied him. Akaashi’s position as the only third year made him captain by default, however Akaashi didn’t feel as though he fit the position. He wasn’t charismatic enough to promote the team, he didn’t have the energy to deliver motivational speeches or hype up the team. His thoughts were quite simply that he  _ wasn’t Bokuto _ . Onaga noticed how much Akaashi was trying to run the team like Bokuto did, however not only was Akaashi very different from Bokuto, the Fukurodani team was falling apart. Akaashi was the only third year in the team, followed by the second years, Onaga and Anahori, as well as two new first years. Even with the new members, the team was lacking a teammate to be able to compete, and they haven’t even been able to sort out positions.

Akaashi was tired of being captain. He would set against a wall for hours on his own, tiring himself out in an effort to stop thinking about the team. He felt useless. He caught the ball, resting his face against it and sinking to his knees with a sigh. His brain was running at a million miles per hour yet he couldn’t process any of it. The gym light was hurting his eyes, making his head throb. Akaashi was finished for the day, placing the ball back into the storage room before getting changed and locking up.

The brisk evening air bit at his ears, tinting them pink. His phone buzzed in his pocket.  
_ ‘Keiji! How was your day?? <3’  _ Akaashi stared at the message, a subtle feeling of loneliness aching in his chest.  
_ ‘It was okay. What about yours?’   
_ _ ‘Good! The college team is so much fun! Kinda miss your sets though :(’  
_ _ ‘My sets aren’t anything special.’  
_ _ "LIES! I think your sets are very special XP <3’  _ Akaashi smiled slightly before feeling a hint of sadness poke at his heart. ‘ _ I think you’re pretty special too.’  _ Akaashi blushed.  _ ‘I miss you Keiji :(’  _ Akaashi ignored the message and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. He felt his eyes stinging, yet he didn’t know if it was because of the message or the wind. His phone buzzed. It buzzed again. And again. Akaashi received at least six more messages before rolling his eyes and pulling out his phone once again.

_ I miss your pretty eyes  
_ _ And your pretty face  
_ _ And your support  
_ _ I miss walking home with you  
_ _ Actually can I come over?  
_ _ I feel lonely  
_ _ I need a cuddle >w<  
_ _ Where’d you go?  
_ _ Keiji? _

Akaashi turned his phone off, jamming it into his bag and zipping his jacket up to his nose. His eyes were burning and heavy, the cold wind making his cheeks flush. He rushed home, collapsing on his bed with a sigh the moment he could. His head pounded with a headache and his neck and back felt stiff from slouching. Akaashi felt like he had lost so much confidence this year. The stress of trying to keep the team afloat was getting to him. He had bags under his eyes from staying up thinking about the team; his grades were slipping as he couldn’t focus on studying. Amongst all that, Akaashi was losing his love for the sport. Playing volleyball used to be the highlight of his life; now it felt like a chore. His stomach rumbled and turned, but Akaashi didn’t have the energy to get up. His eyes drifted to his window sill where dozens of little owl figurines were outlined by the remaining sunlight reflecting through the rain which had begun to fall outside. His chest ached as much as his head did, but in a very different way. Across the room, his bag layed disregarded on the floor. In it was his phone. Off. Akaashi thought of the messages he had received beforehand and how he had left so abruptly.  _ I’ll need an excuse _ , he thought, staring a hole into the shoulder bag.

A knock rang through Akaashi’s house. Knowing his parents weren’t home, he pulled himself out of bed with a whine and lazily answered the door. On his door was a very damp, very out of breath Bokuto. “Keiji! You- You didn’t answer me!” Bokuto panted out. “I know you read it, and you always respond so I started thinking that you were mad at me. Then I thought ‘well what if he’s been kidnapped?’ I mean, you're pretty enough, who wouldn’t want to kidnap you? Anyway, so I was overthinking and worried and probably unnecessarily scared but I just wanted to make sure-”  
“Koutarou,” Akaashi interrupted.  
“Y-yes?”  
“You’re rambling.” The two teens stared at each other in silence for a while, a blush deeply colouring Bokuto’s face. “It’s cold out. Come inside.” Akaashi left the door open and collected a towel for Bokuto, tossing it at him as he fumbled through the door.

“Are you mad Keiji?” Bokuto asked, following Akaashi and sitting facing him on the bed as he roughly dried his dripping hair. Akaashi avoided Bokuto’s gaze, staring at his feet. He glanced at Bokuto; a massive mistake. In the split second that Akaashi looked at his partner, he saw his worried eyes, his pouty lip, and his damp hair. Akaashi was weak and he knew it. “Please look at me Keiji,” Bokuto said shakily, inching closer to Akaashi. Akaashi winced, not knowing if he wanted to hold Bokuto close or ask him to leave. But why? Akaashi knew that Bokuto wasn’t at fault here. It was his own insecurities and failures that were causing the team to fail. It was  _ his _ fault. Akaashi was shaking, tears that had been prickling in his eyes for weeks finally spilling over and running down his cheeks. He choked back a sob. Bokuto reached out and pressed a comforting hand to Akaashi’s cheek, running his thumb back and forth, wiping away his tears. Akaashi grabbed Bokuto’s wrist, sinking his face deeper into the comforting touch. 

Bokuto pulled Akaashi against his chest, lacing his fingers into Akaashi’s hair and softly stroking his back. Akaashi gripped onto Bokuto’s shirt, holding so tightly his knuckles went white. Bokuto laid back, allowing Akaashi to lay on top of him, his tears seeping into Bokuto’s shirt. After a few minutes, Akaashi calmed down, releasing his grip and focusing on the feeling of Bokuto’s hand on his back and his quiet shushing. “Are you okay?” Bokuto muttered. Akaashi nodded. “Are you sure?” Akaashi shook his head. “Can I move for a second?” Akaashi sat up, wiping at his red, damp face. Bokuto shuffled towards the head of the bed, reorganising the pillows before opening his arms to Akaashi who quickly nestled himself onto Bokuto’s chest. Akaashi listened to the sound of Bokuto’s heartbeat, a rapid yet consistent rhythm. 

“Sorry I didn’t respond,” Akaashi mumbled, his throat hoarse from sobbing.  
“It’s okay, you had your reasons, obviously,” Bokuto responds, gently stroking Akaashi’s hair.  
“I felt really lonely.”  
“Is that the reason?”  
“One of them,” Akaashi readjusted his position. “I’m a really bad captain.”  
“Pfft, I doubt that!” Bokuto scoffed.  
“This isn’t a joke Koutarou. The team is falling apart and I have no idea what to do about it. We don’t have enough member’s but I don’t have the charisma to recruit new ones. I don’t have the resolve to assign people with positions, especially when we have three setters and no ace! And not only that but-”  
“Keiji,” Bokuto interrupted. “You’re rambling,” he said, smirking. Akaashi sighed, relaxing against Bokuto’s chest again, closing his eyes.  
“Volleyball isn’t fun without you.”  
“You’re stressing about it too much. You need to relax a little.”  
“I can’t. I’m not a good captain like you are.”  
“That’s because you aren’t me. We are very different people, Keiji. And don’t get me wrong, that’s why I love you so much. But if you are trying to captain the way I did, then it won’t work. You aren’t me. You are you. You can be an incredible captain, you just have to do it your way.” 

Akaashi sat up and looked at his boyfriend in shock. “Who are you and what have you done to Koutarou?” Bokuto chuckled and ran his hand through his hair.  
“Hey! Give me some credit! I had my fair share of moment’s when I felt down about my abilities too!” Akaashi glared at Bokuto.  
“Really, I never noticed,” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm.  
“I know, I know, hard to believe.” Bokuto smirked and chuckled as Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Keiji, you know that I was far from the perfect captain. I was temperamental and very easily swayed by emotion. I had enthusiasm, but it was shaky. I didn’t encourage my team; they encouraged me.”  
“But I never get as excited about things as you do. I don’t get pumped about scoring a goal like you, I just go with what happens.” Bokuto let out a loud laugh, leaning against Akaashi’s shoulder and holding his stomach.  
“Keiji, you get so excited! You're trying to tell me that you don’t get a rush when your team scores a point? You’ve never once felt so excited about winning that you want to shout, and jump, and hug all your teammates? You don’t feel proud when you set the perfect shot? I know that you do, Keiji. You love those moments, you’ve just forgotten them.” Bokuto lent forward, pressing his forehead against Akaashi’s and beaming. Akaashi sniffled. “Wait, why are you crying again? That wasn’t the intention! Did I say something wrong?” Akaashi chuckled as he wiped away his tears.   
“No, not at all. It’s just…” Akaashi leans forward, gently kissing Bokuto. “...I really missed you,” he whispered against his partner’s lips. 

Bokuto held the back of Akaashi’s head, pulling the shorter man closer into a deeper kiss. Bokuto gently slid his tongue against Akaashi’s lips, silently communicating his longing. Akaashi slightly opened his mouth, allowing Bokuto to intertwine their tongues. The kiss was slow and sensual, carrying the pair's feelings for each other, letting their partner know how much they missed them, how much they loved them. Akaashi pulled away first, leaving Bokuto chasing after his kiss. He breathed deeply, sighing with relief. Bokuto smiled widely, throwing his arms around Akaashi’s waist and pulling him close. “Keiji~ I’ve missed you so much! I want to see you more often!” Bokuto complains, lightly kissing his way up Akaashi’s neck, along his jaw, over his cheekbones, temples, eyelids, everything, before gently kissing his lips again. “I love you Keiji.”  
“I love you too, more than you know,” Akaashi said, pressing a soft kiss to Bokuto’s forehead. 

The rest of the evening was spent kissing and laughing, watching stupid rom-coms and eating takeout. Eventually, the two settled down with Akaashi laying on Bokuto’s chest once again, listening to the soft thump of his heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. Akaashi’s brain had calmed down, and what used to be stressful overthinking was replaced with a single unifying thought.

_ I love him. _

\-----------

Instead of trying to lead like Bokuto did, Akaashi took on a different approach. Positions cycled so that the team members we’re well rounded and could play wherever they were needed. He fell in love with playing again by appreciating the people around him and celebrating achievements as a team. There were times when he would have to treat them as children, but that was something Akaashi was used to. They never formed a competitive team that year and Akaashi didn’t decide to pursue a career in sport.

“Koutarou!” he shouts, lightly relaying the ball off his fingers. Bokuto leapt into the air, making contact with the ball and sending it rocketing onto the floor of the opposite court. Akaashi did, however, occasionally meet up with Bokuto after school for practice.   
“Man, it’s a shame you’re graduating soon. I don’t think the college will let us stay late in their gym,” Bokuto said.  
“I’m looking forward to never setting a ball again in my life,” Akaashi mumbled as he stretched his neck. Bokuto pouted at Akaashi. “Okay, maybe I’ll set for you every once and a while.” Bokuto smiled again, bounding towards his boyfriend and resting his hands on his waist.

“I’m really proud of you Keiji.”  
“What do you mean, we didn’t even compete this year,” Akaashi whined.  
“Yeah, but you had a  _ team _ . You took a group of kids and you made them a team. You were their captain, and they looked up to you. I am very proud of that,” Bokuto said, touching foreheads with his boyfriend.  
“It’s getting late; we should lock up.”  
“Yeah. Besides, I’m getting really hungry. We should get takeout on our way home… Or I could cook for you?” Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows at Akaashi.  
“We should pick up some onigiri on our way home.”  
“Keiji~ Why don't you let me cook for you~” Bokuto whined.  
“I am not going to be the reason your house burns down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That kiss scene is the closest thing to smut you're ever gonna get out of me, my asexual brain can't handle it. The ending is mediocre but I wanted to actually sum up on what happened to the team after their lil chat and it's like 5 am and I really just wanted to finish this ngl. I feel like Akaashi would really struggle in his third year so thats why I wrote this :( Akaashi is literally my babe and writing him crying and stressed out was so painful and ahhhhhh but its okay because Bokuto exists ^w^ BokuAka is literally my emotional support through life I would not live without either of them.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed (^ovo^)


End file.
